


poison and wine

by JohnConstantine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:52:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnConstantine/pseuds/JohnConstantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A newly human Castiel is visited by an old ghost</p>
            </blockquote>





	poison and wine

> I wish you’d hold me when I turn my back  
> The less I give the more I get back  
> Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise  
> I don’t have a choice but I’d still choose you

Darkness closed in on him as he wandered around town, uncomfortable by the open space and the chilly air that blew through his hair and bled through his jacket. It hadn’t taken him long to gather himself; dehydration and hunger had been a handicap and he was still lost completely to where he was.

After finding a safe place in between two buildings to sit and rest, Castiel allowed himself time to breathe. Humanity was frightening, something he’d been faced with before but that was back when he knew he would die shortly after. But now…

Now he was faced with this…an ache from his wounds and the dragging feeling of sleep calling out to him. He was hungry still but he decided to wait out until tomorrow to get something to eat. Eating, sleeping, travel by foot, and scars that wouldn’t heal…this felt more like a curse than an opportunity.

 

 _I want to go home_.

"You dont have a home, Clarence," a dead voice whispered and Castiel turned to see  _her_  smiling at him like she did when he was cleaning her wounds. “I think that’s what made us so similar. our homelessness.”

"Meg…"

He decided he was just tired and delirious. “You’re not real. As much as I want you to be…”

"Is that anyway to say hello? Knew humanity would fuck you in the manners department," she settled in against the wall beside him. "So how’d you do it this time? How’d you fck up the world?"

He huffed, pulling his legs closer against his chest to fight the cold rush of wind that blew into the alleyway. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

"Come on, Cas. What did you do?"

"You’re a figment of my mind, you tell me."

"I don’t think you want that."

"What am I supposed to do?" Castiel buried his head back into his hands, his self control wavering at the rush of human emotion that had begun to fill him. Meg watched him, cocking her head to the side and watching him shake 

"Do what you always do. Fix it."

"This came by trying to fix it!" Castiel hissed, shoving his head farther between his knees. "All of this pain…this loss, this rift with my family is my fault…"

"And you’re surprised Cas?" Meg said softly. He lifted his head to look up at her, eyes wet and tired. "You’ve fucked up Cas. Hell you fucked up. And honestly I get it."

"Oh?"

Meg smiled and leaned back, blacked out eyes zeroing on his face and flicking up and down his features. "Would be dead if I followed the rules all the time, would I?"

"I guess not," he sighed. "I do miss you."

"Really? You and the boys seemed to forget that I was being tortured for an entire year."

Castiel snorted. “I was in Purgatory most of the year. I’m sorry.”

She waved her hand. “Wasn’t one for the knight in armor bullshit. Though it would have been nice. Could have saved a bit more pain before I bit the bullet.”

He wanted to touch her, something human taking him over, and he brushed his fingers over hers, unprepared for the cold air that made up her hand. He wanted to kiss her, like they had done before, but her lips belonged to a ghost.

He wanted to find comfort in her, a tiny little emotion he had kept still in the back of his mind had bubbled back up. “I’m so sorry.”

"Clarence…" she began but he was already burying his head in her crossed legs, pretending she had shape and pretending her fingers could card through his hair.  

"I’m sorry," he whispered again, imagining her rolling her eyes and telling him how stupid he was. He wanted her to tell him how annoying he was, how bad his poetry was, how she was sick and tired of his following her around. He imagined her sitting there, holding him, keeping him warm, talking softly as she began to vanish.

He was alone. Wasn’t anything new, bu he missed her. He wanted her. 

"I’m so sorry."

> _You only know what I want you to_   
>  _I know everything you don’t want me to_   
>  _Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine_   
>  _You think your dreams are the same as mine_   
>  _Oh I don’t love you but I always will_


End file.
